


Milkman

by SharkGirl



Series: Shklance Roleplay [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), All my tags are spoilers for this fic lol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Established Relationship, Established shklance, Househusband!Shiro, M/M, Married Characters, Milkman!Lance, Multi, Polyamory, Pretend Cheating, Riding, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, naked apron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: “Hey there.” It was Mr. Shirogane in all his glory, smiling brightly and looking gorgeous, as usual, the scar across his nose only adding to his rugged appearance. He was wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. And suddenly, Lance’s uniform felt stifling.





	Milkman

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like the title is misleading... There's no lactation kink in this story. Lance is just a milkman.  
> It'll all make sense if you read it, haha.
> 
> I'm back again with some NSFW Voltron content and this time it's Shance! I blame everyone on the Vol-Tron? discord server. They encourage this behavior, haha.  
> Beta'd by the lovley Ghost and fantabulous Jes~♥  
> Please enjoy!!

Lance whistled a happy little tune as he made his way down the walk. He was on his last delivery and, once he was done, he was free for the long weekend.

He worked in an oddly retro business, at-home milk delivery, but it was coming back. People liked the idea of farm-fresh milk brought right to their doorstep. And it was a simple enough gig. He just had to place the box – complete with baggies of dry ice to keep everything from spoiling – in the metal bins left out on the porch.

Easy peasy.

Of course, today the job was a bit more difficult than the norm. And that wasn’t just because his last stop was his absolute favorite client. It was the fact that, because it was the one year anniversary of the start-up company he worked for, he was clad in an old-fashioned milkman’s uniform, authentic from the top of his vintage white cap to the soles of his shiny black shoes.

It was pretty warm out and the thick polyester of the costume was starting to make him sweat. But he only had one more delivery and then he could go home, strip off the rental outfit, and relax.

Well, that was the plan, anyway.

As he approached the last house on the right, with its picturesque window boxes, brightly colored shutters, and white picket fence, he got the strange sensation than someone was watching him. But when he looked around, he didn’t see anyone. Not even his favorite customer.

Now, Mr. Shirogane wasn’t just his favorite because he was insanely attractive, fit, muscular, gorgeous, with dark eyes and a million dollar smile. No, that wasn’t it. He also tended to tip very well. Though, most of the time. the gratuity was waiting for Lance inside the box.

This time, however, when Lance opened it up, he found nothing.

Maybe he’d forgotten. After all, it was a holiday weekend. Maybe Mr. Shirogane wasn’t expecting a delivery today.

Shrugging, Lance set the order in the box and stood up to leave. But just as he turned around, the door to the house opened.

“Hey there.” It was Mr. Shirogane in all his glory, smiling brightly and looking gorgeous, as usual, the scar across his nose only adding to his rugged appearance. He was wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. And suddenly, Lance’s uniform felt stifling.

“Hello,” Lance returned, trying to remain professional.

“You’re early,” Mr. Shirogane mused before looking Lance up and down and quirking a brow. “And dressed to impress, I see.”

“Ah, yeah.” Lance rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s a promotional thing,” he explained. “What with it being the company’s first anniversary and all.”

“I see.” He chuckled. “It suits you.”

Lance’s ears burned at the compliment, a flush spreading across his face and down his neck. “Th-Thank you,” he stammered and then cursed himself. He was on the job. It was no time to be getting all flustered. “Well, I should probably get going.”

“More deliveries?” Mr. Shirogane asked.

“Nope,” Lance answered, adjusting his cap. “You’re the last one.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “Then you’re done for the day.” It wasn’t a question.

“I am,” Lance said and then belatedly added, “Sir.”

Again, Mr. Shirogane let out a soft chuckle. “No need to be so formal,” he promised. “You know,” he continued before Lance could interject, “It’s unseasonably warm today.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Maybe you’d like to come in for something to drink?”

Lance’s gaze drifted down to the rippling biceps straining his too-tight sleeves and the hint of muscled cleavage peeking out from beneath his collar. He swallowed thickly. “Um…”

“Don’t make me beg,” he added and Lance was gone.

“S-Sure,” he replied, nodding his head. “I’ll just bring this in, then.” Lance bent down and picked up the delivery, but Mr. Shirogane was faster, taking it from his hands and walking inside. Lance found himself unable to look away, his gaze locked on the gentle swaying of the other man’s hips as he strode forward. But he stopped in the foyer, glancing over his shoulder.

“You coming?” Mr. Shirogane asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Lance scrambled up the step and into the house, making sure to close the door behind him. He might have been a bit rattled at the moment, but he hadn’t been raised in a barn. “Thanks for having me, Mr. Shirogane.”

“Always so formal,” he tutted. “Just Shiro is fine.” Then he paused. “Mr…Milkman?” A teasing smile curved his lips and Lance was quick to answer the unvoiced question.

“Lance,” he said. “My name’s Lance.”

Shiro hummed to himself, his dark gray eyes raking over Lance’s form. Though, that could just have been wishful thinking. “I liked Mr. Milkman,” he said. “But Lance is also good.”

At the sound of his name passing the other man’s lips, Lance nearly melted.

Man, maybe it was hotter than he thought.

“So,” Shiro continued. “Make yourself at home.” He gestured over toward the couch with his chin. “I’ll just put this milk away and get us some lemonade.”

“Thanks,” Lance managed and then removed his hat.

Shiro flashed him one last smile before disappearing into the kitchen. While he was gone, Lance took the opportunity to look around. He’d only ever seen the house from the outside. And maybe a glimpse of Shiro working out through an open window. Not that he was peeping. His eyes were just drawn to him, was all.

Lance walked toward the couch, his fingers skimming along the top of a long table. On it were pictures and mementos. But what caught his eye was the largest photo, wrapped in an ornate silver frame. It was a slightly younger Shiro and another man that Lance had only seen in passing before. Shiro was grinning from ear to ear and showing off the third finger of his left hand, adorned with a beautiful golden ring. The other man wasn’t nearly so bubbly. In fact, he almost looked like he was annoyed that the picture was being taken. But at second glance, the corners of his lips were quirked up just a hair and, although his gaze was directed at the person behind the camera, there was love in his eyes.

He looked away, feeling like he’d intruded on something personal.

There were several more photos close by, all with the same grumpy man in them. Lance was no dummy. He knew very well who’d given Shiro that ring. But even knowing he was in another man’s house with another man’s husband, he couldn’t make himself leave. So instead, he took the offered seat on the couch.

Lance tugged at the collar of his uniform. If he wasn’t in just a thin undershirt, he would have removed it. He just hoped that Shiro returned with the lemonade soon. That would cool him off.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Shiro called from behind him. “I wanted to slip into something a bit more comfortable.”

“That’s fi-” Lance began and turned to look over the back of the couch, but he froze when he saw the other man. Shiro was standing there, holding two glasses of lemonade, and wearing a frilly floral apron.

And only the apron.

Lance gaped, the words dying on his tongue. That was more of Mr. Shirogane than he’d ever seen and he was fighting the urge to let his eyes roam over every exposed inch of pale, scarred, muscled flesh.

He swallowed, but it got stuck in his throat. Yeah, it was definitely hot in here.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked coyly, sauntering over, impressively light on his feet for a bigger guy. His face split into a wide smile. “Cat got your tongue?”

“M-Mr. Shirogane,” Lance began, but Shiro cut him off.

“Shiro,” he corrected, moving closer and handing Lance a glass. “You seem…tense.”

Tense? Well, yeah! He was in his favorite customer’s living room, sweating buckets, while said man was all but naked in front of him.

Lance’s eyes darted to the side, anything to keep from staring at the sight before him. But his gaze fell upon a large trophy on a nearby shelf. In front of it was a photo of Shiro’s other half, frowning as always, with his arms crossed over his chest and some sort of black striped belt around his waist.

Oh Lord. He could probably snap Lance in half, couldn’t he?

“Uh, Shiro.” He wet his lips, turning back toward the man hovering over him. “That guy in the pictures…” He cleared his throat. “Is he…?”

“My husband?” Shiro asked, brows raised. “Yeah. But don’t worry.” He took Lance’s glass and set both down on the coffee table. Then he straddled Lance’s lap, his knees digging into the soft cushions of the couch. “He won’t mind.”

Lance sincerely doubted that.

“He looks…” Lance continued, unsure how to finish. But Shiro followed his gaze toward the martial arts trophy and then chuckled.

“He does tend to get a bit jealous,” he mused, placing his hands on the back of the couch for support, an arm on either side of Lance’s head. “But that’s what he gets for working all the time.”

Holy fuck.

“Even I’ll get lonely.” Shiro gave a slight pout and lowered his hips so he was sitting, his ass flush against the tops of Lance’s clothed thighs and the thin floral fabric of the apron doing little to conceal his interest. “So,” he breathed, moving his hands from the back of the couch so he could loop his arms around Lance’s neck. “Want to keep me company?”

Lance gaped, working his jaw, but to no avail. He was speechless.

He was in another man’s home. With another man’s husband. Dressed as a milkman, for crying out loud! This was more like a setup for a porno than a real life situation. And yet…

“Y-Yeah…” Shaky hands came to rest on Shiro’s hips. “I want to.”

Shiro’s lips curved up. “Good.” He bit his lower lip and moved closer, barely leaving any space between then. “Now, please touch me.”

Lance hesitated. “I am touching you,” he offered with a nervous little laugh that petered out at the end. But Shiro seemed unfazed by Lance’s less-than-seductive behavior.

“I mean _here_ ,” he said, taking one of Lance’s hands in his and placing it on his upper thigh, just shy of the tent in the apron. Then he closed his eyes and stilled, as if waiting for Lance to move.

This was dangerous. No, this was beyond dangerous, Lance realized when he managed to tear his gaze away from Shiro and spotted a collection of antique knives in the corner. This was a recipe for disaster. This could only end with one extremely jealous husband and one very much deceased milkman.

“Shiro,” he began and then corrected himself. “Mr. Shirogane, we shouldn’t-”

Shiro’s eyelids fluttered open, a pout forming on his lips. “Why not?” he asked innocently enough, and too many thoughts flew through Lance’s mind at once for him to answer properly, so Shiro continued. “You know, I’ve had my eye on you for a while,” he said, picking up Lance’s hat from where he’d set it beside him on the couch. Shiro placed it on his own head, a little cockeyed, but it stayed. “I thought I could resist a bit longer, but…” He lowered his hand, tracing a finger over Lance’s chin and down his neck before stopping to tug on his uniform’s black bowtie.

Lance opened his mouth, but, once again, no words came out. Maybe this was all a dream. Just a really vivid and realistic dream. However, when Shiro’s quad muscle flexed under Lance’s hand as he pushed forward, grinding against him, Lance knew there was no way his mind had come up with something this unbelievable.

“ _Please_ , touch me,” Shiro went on. “I want it so bad…”

Lance did as he was told, sliding his hand up Shiro’s thigh and brushing against his erection, still hidden beneath the fabric. Shiro moaned, tilting his head back and continuing to thrust against him.

“Fuck, yes,” he practically growled. “Lance, _fuck_.”

Eyes wide and still slightly unbelieving, Lance raised his other hand, lifting it to Shiro’s cheek and cradling his face. Shiro stopped moving and opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. “You’re so beautiful,” Lance said without thinking and then pressed their lips together.

Shiro moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth eagerly for Lance’s tongue. And, hell, dream or not, Lance was enjoying this. His slipped his fingers under the apron and thumbed the underside of Shiro’s cock, swallowing the pleasured groan and wishing desperately to at least unbutton his own pants. He was so hard.

As if reading his mind, Shiro’s hands flew to his belt, unbuckling the patent leather and tugging it off in one swift motion. He broke the kiss just long enough to throw it over his shoulder before he dove back in.

“Wanted you,” Shiro breathed against his lips as he undid his fly.

“Me, too,” Lance answered, lifting his hips so Shiro could pull his pants and underwear down, just far enough to expose his cock to the much cooler air of the room. He shivered deliciously and then gasped when Shiro wrapped his hand around him.

“I’d planned on sucking you off first,” he said, breaking the kiss again and pressing their foreheads together. “But I’ve run out of patience,” he admitted, giving him another squeeze. “I want this in me. Now.”

Lance nodded, still dazed. “Yeah, okay,” he said, placing his hand over Shiro’s to stop him before he embarrassed himself by losing it too soon. “We’ll need to-”

“Already did,” Shiro interrupted, taking Lance’s hand and bringing it behind him.

Lance moaned long and low as Shiro led his fingers to his entrance, which was practically dripping. “Fuck,” he gasped.

“I was prepping myself when you came up,” Shiro confessed. “I almost missed you,” he said with a little laugh. “You were early.”

“My bad,” Lance replied, not apologetic in the least, and then slipped a finger into him, earning a shuddering gasp in return. “Fuck,” he marveled. “You’re incredible.”

Shiro just hummed, rocking back against his hand. But he quickly made it known that it wasn’t enough. Lance barely had time to object when he grabbed his wrist and pulled him out because Shiro was already lining himself up and sinking onto his cock.

“Shit…” Lance grit his teeth at the overwhelming slick heat surrounding him. “Shiro…”

“Lance,” he echoed, bracing himself on Lance’s shoulders before setting a frantic pace.

And Lance could do nothing but sit there and take it. He tried thrusting up, but, Hell, it was Shiro doing the fucking and he couldn’t even complain.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes!” Shiro tossed his head back as he rode him, tightening as he drew closer and closer to the edge.

Lance bit the inside of his cheek, desperate to keep himself from coming first. He reached out, placing his hands on Shiro’s chest and slipping his fingers under the fabric of the apron to brush against his nipples.

“Lance!” Shiro gasped and then froze, his entire body shaking as he found his release. Lance was quick to follow, burying his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck and gripping him tightly around the waist as he came inside him.

Still, Lance managed a tired chuckle. “Sensitive,” he teased and Shiro barked out a hoarse laugh, one hand coming to comb through Lance’s hair.

“You know it, babe,” he replied.

Just then, the front door opened. Shiro was the first to look up.

“Keith,” he greeted. “You’re home early.”

Lance turned his head to regard the other man. “You missed all the action.”

“Seems that way,” Keith surmised with a quirk of his lips. “Milkman fantasy everything you wanted?”

“Just about,” Lance answered. “Though, I’ve got to ask. Where did you hide all of the pictures with me in them?”

“You didn’t make it easy,” Keith replied, toeing off his shoes and padding his way across the carpet. “But you’ll find the bed in the guest room completely covered.”

Lance smiled. “Thanks for setting up the house, _honey_.”

“Anything for you, _darling_ ,” Keith shot back with a roll of his eyes.

“Mmm,” Shiro began, shifting in Lance’s lap. “You know, it’s not too late for you to join in,” he offered.

“Yeah,” Lance added. “Enter the jealous workaholic,” he said and then lowered his voice to a sultry whisper. “You gonna punish me for fucking your little househusband?”

Keith snorted. “You’d like that too much.”

“Ah, you got me there,” Lance snickered. “But, uh, you know, I kind of messed up,” he said.

“Soiling the rental costume?” Keith asked, but Lance shook his head.

He held up his left hand. “I forgot to take _my_ ring off.”

“Oh, _well_ ,” Keith began, crossing his arms over his chest. “Guess we’ll have to do it all over again, won’t we?”

“Hey, don’t tease me,” Lance said, mildly affronted. “I can’t help it if I’m a perfectionist.” He pouted.

“Well, I think it’s cute.” Shiro leaned forward and kissed Lance on the tip of his nose. “But if we want to do this again, I’m going to need another apron.” He bit his lower lip and ducked his head sheepishly.

“And you say _I’m_ the cute one,” Lance admonished, curling his fingers under Shiro’s chin and bringing him in for a chaste kiss. “You’re adorable.”

“You’re both _disgustingly_ precious,” Keith said from beside them and Lance could practically _hear_ the eye roll in his tone.

He pulled back from his kiss with Shiro and beamed at Keith. “Yeah, but you love us.”

“Yeah,” Keith sighed with a slight shake of his head before joining them on the couch. “Yeah, I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, they're all married~ Surprise! Unless you read the tags and saw how I spoiled it, haha.  
> Marriage between three people? Well, they either had a commitment ceremony or in this universe, they can!
> 
> I hope you like it~  
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on my Voltron sideblog [@bleucheesy](http://bleucheesy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
